Moments
by blackpearl23456
Summary: A collection of Spooks drabbles, each one prompted by a quote and an episode; a moment. I'm attempting to do one for each character. May contain spoilers.
1. Harry

Harry, 5.5

"_Leave it as something wonderful that was never said."_

Her hands had been as cold as ice when she'd held onto his face with them, no doubt so cold due to spending the night sat outside His breath had caught in his throat as she'd pressed her lips to his. How he wished that the kiss could have lasted forever. Even now, hours later, he could not stop thinking about her, that kiss, their goodbye… If only he could have told her how he felt; how he loved her; how his heart ached to spend the rest of his life with her. But his words would forever hang in the air as something wonderful that could never be said.


	2. Adam

Adam, 4.7

"_Keep Wes safe. Promise me you will."_

He held her in his arms and watched as the light left her eyes. The tears came thick and fast, almost blinding him as the agony overwhelmed him. He felt like his heart had been wrenched out of his chest it hurt so much. He wanted nothing more than to curl up, go to sleep, and never wake up again. How would he ever find the strength to carry on living? To look into Wes' eyes – identical to Fiona's – and tell him that his mother was gone and not coming back? The love of Adam's life was dead, and there was no changing that, but she had taken him a part of him with her. They had been best friends, lovers, an unbreakable team and soul mates, but now, he was alone.


	3. Ros

Ros, 6.8

"_Ros! You are an outstanding officer. You are __my__ outstanding officer. Don't be afraid."_

It was all very well Harry telling her not to be afraid, but she already was. Absolutely bloody terrified. The tears streamed down her cheeks freely, and she was powerless to stop them. She had never really been one for crying. Even as a little girl, she had preferred to utter every single bad word she knew instead of sitting down and bawling. Now though, she could do nothing but cry, her heart hammering violently inside her chest. She could see Juliet preparing the needle beside her, and wrestled pointlessly with the cuffs that bound her to the rickety, wooden chair. She looked up and met Harry's gaze, his eyes reassuring hers as she felt the needle prick her neck, then agony, then nothing…


	4. Danny

Danny, 3.6

"_You didn't buy me any Earl Grey teabags." _

He had forgotten to buy them again; he wasn't used to only doing the shopping for himself, and found it a rather sad and lonely task. And so, yet again, he found himself standing in the kitchen in front of an open cupboard, holding the box of camomile teabags that Zoe loved so much, and that he was unable to throw out, in one hand, and his favourite, if not slightly chipped, mug in the other. Against his better judgement, he found himself putting one of the teabags into his mug and covering it with steaming water from the freshly boiled kettle. The smell was welcoming and comforting to his tired senses; it was the smell of many mornings of many days and many memories of Zoe. The scent of it epitomised her completely: calm, soothing, feminine, heavenly… Danny closed his eyes and began to remember.


	5. Jo

Jo, 8.2

"_I think, in another life, we might have even been friends."_

She looked down at the letter, which she clutched in her trembling hands. Her head throbbed and ached from the aftermath of the operation. Poor Bibi had been right – she really was Urazov's victim. So much so that she had been determined to pull the trigger on him, and then herself. It was such a shame to see a life wasted in that way. Jo refolded the letter and slipped it into her back pocket, looking around at the flat as she did so. Compassion was rarely a good emotion to have a spy, and Ros frequently scolded her for becoming too attached to the people they were targeting. In this case, Ros was probably right: Bibi's death affected Jo more than it should. This job had cost her yet another friend.


	6. Lucas

**If anyone has any suggestions for future drabbles please message me with them , or put them in a review. Thanks!**

* * *

Lucas, 7.2

"_Home isn't where you live. It's where people understand you. If I don't have trust from MI5, from you, then I'll never really be home. I'll just be back in England."_

His own words had never seemed so much truer than now, as he lay awake in his new bed, in his new room, in his new flat. Nothing felt right; his flat felt so unrealistic that he may as well have been in a strangers' house. There was something missing. He was not truly home: his home would have been back in Elizabeta's arms, in the familiar cosy house which he still often dreamt about. But there was no chance of that now, as Elizabeta had moved on with her life, and Lucas supposed that it was time he tried to. Once he had regained MI5's trust he would feel a little easier, but it was making a house feel like a home that was the hard bit.


End file.
